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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29549814">(Don't) Leave Me Lonely</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryMilkandCookies/pseuds/StrawberryMilkandCookies'>StrawberryMilkandCookies</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Non-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Depression, Hajime is a good boyfriend, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Relapse, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Suffering Komaeda Nagito</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 20:20:20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,342</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29549814</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberryMilkandCookies/pseuds/StrawberryMilkandCookies</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Relapses are a normal part of healing. But it's still upsetting when it happens.</p><p>(nagito is trying to heal for hajime's sake but relapses and feels he needs to hide it)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>175</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>(Don't) Leave Me Lonely</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>another vent fic yahoo. the story title is based off of the song Entropy by Grimes</p><p>TRIGGER WARNINGS: S3lf-harm (graphic), blood, r@zor blad3 mention, panic attacks, PTSD, depression, self-hatred, and suicidal feelings. It does turn out alright though, no one dies and everyone is okay!</p><p>If you're triggered by any of these things please don't read!! It's not worth it there are plenty of happy fics to read on here don't put yourself in danger.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nagito wanted to say it was an accident, but it wasn’t, really. An accident would be exploding with irritability when you were trying so hard to be patient, or crying in front of someone unprepared to handle all of your emotions. Both of these incidents were like what he did, but they were accidents. Accidents that lead to feelings of shame and regret, but accidents nonetheless.</p><p>
  <span>An emotional meltdown could be considered an accident. Yelling out or crying during a PTSD episode could be considered an accident. Even breaking your knuckles after punching a wall could be considered be an accident.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But taking the time to make sure no one was around, breaking open a razor head, and sitting in the bathtub while you reopened the scars that were just beginning to heal could </span>
  <em>
    <span>not, </span>
  </em>
  <span>in any way, be considered an accident. No matter which way Nagito chose to look at what had happened earlier that day, the fact remained that what he did was completely intentional.</span>
</p><p>He thought he was getting better. Well…sort of. A part of him thought he was getting better because the doctors told him he was doing better. The other part of him knew he could never get better, no matter how many pills they prescribed.</p><p>Nagito never tried to get treatment before. He spent his whole life alone, there was no one to force him to get help. He wasn’t going to get it for himself; he knew he didn’t deserve it. The therapists and doctors could spend their time helping people who deserved it. After all, they went through years of schooling just to get to be where they were…he wasn’t going to waste their time with a hopeless case when there were patients out there who could actually be helped.</p><p>
  <span>And then there wasn’t any reason to get help. His parents were dead; there was no one around him legally required to care for him. He was used to hiding his problems from his classmates, and even if they noticed they didn’t care. He’d see their eyes go wide and then hurriedly look the other way before they were expected to say or do anything. They’d then avoid him…because why wouldn’t they? No one wanted to talk to someone so fucked up they tore open their skin with razor blades.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, then he met Hajime. The reserve course student who didn’t see him the way everyone else did. As they grew closer, Hajime began to realize how screwed up Nagito was (it didn’t take long for anyone to notice, really.) And yet, he didn’t leave. Hajime put up with his shit and stuck around. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t just put up with it, though. Over time, he went from dropping subtle hints that therapy would be helpful to outright telling Nagito he was going to find him a therapist. What was he supposed to do, say he </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> need it? He obviously did. That didn’t mean he deserved it, nor did it mean that it would actually be useful.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That wasn’t why he was doing it, though. He was doing it for Hajime, who was so full of hope and persistence. That was the only reason why he was willing to try it in the first place. For some reason, Hajime had faith in him and the treatment he was begging Nagito to receive. He believed that it would be helpful and that his friend could be saved with medicine and therapy. He had hope…for </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So, for Hajime’s sake, he did try. How could he not? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he expected, therapy didn’t do much for him. Surprisingly, though, Nagito found that the pills the doctor prescribed did…something. He couldn’t decide if it was a positive effect or not, and he couldn’t say what, exactly, but he knew they were having some sort of effect on him. And then Hajime asked Nagito out and now they were…dating. It was baffling, but he no longer tried to understand it. On the outside, it was beginning to look like there might have been hope for him after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But even with therapy, medicine, and a boyfriend that made him want to stay alive, he still screwed everything up. All it took was one episode and it felt as if he was back at rock bottom again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Memories that had been repressed were bubbling to the surface of his consciousness once again. Along with the memories came a panic attack and a deep hatred for himself, and the panic and self-loathing he had succumbed to now permanently marked both of his forearms.</span>
</p><p>It was all he knew. It was the only thing that gave him some sort of comfort. It was a punishment. It was what he deserved.</p><p>The cuts that had been thinning and turning a lighter shade were now overlapped by scarlet marks, both thick and thin, both deep and shallow. The bathroom looked like a murder scene. In a world where his luck cycle was nonexistent, maybe Nagito finally would have passed out of the realm of his corrupted mortality.</p><p>
  <span>But, after his panic attack had passed and he had no more tears left to cry, he realized it wasn’t going to happen. Even without pressure or treatment, the bleeding eventually stopped and all that was left was a mess that he had to clean up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Arms throbbing the entire time, he managed to wash away the blood with what little energy he had left after the episode. Bathtub cleaned and razor disposed of, it was almost as if he had completely erased all of the evidence. All of the evidence…save his own body parts he had severely mutilated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course he just HAD to have a mental breakdown a few hours before he was scheduled to meet with Hajime. There was no use canceling because he “wasn’t feeling well;” that would only make Hajime show up at his apartment to find out what was wrong and try to find a way to help. There was no use rescheduling; Nagito was part of no clubs and had no friends he could use as excuses to hide behind. He had to go through with it.</span>
</p><p><span>The two were going to go out for dinner and then walk back to their dorms; an evening that would have been relaxing if Nagito wasn’t so focused on not giving away what had happened. The entire night was dedicated to wearing a smile, turning the conversation away from himself, and positioning his arms carefully to avoid his jacket slipping off his skinny figure and revealing what had happened.</span> He tried to ignore the burning sensation that came every time his coat rubbed against his scars, spreading from his forearms to his shoulders. He never realized how much his arms moved when he walked until they were ripped open and rubbed against loose fabric.</p><p>And now here he was, walking back to his dorm with Hajime only a few feet away. He had no idea how long he could keep pretending; Hajime wasn’t an idiot, he was bound to realize something was wrong eventually. Even if Nagito’s acting skills were worthy of Oscar awards, there was no denying the fact that he would have to take his coat off eventually. Whether it was in the bedroom or on a hot day, there would come a time where Nagito would be expected to take off the coat.</p><p>
  <span>Oh, well. He would keep it hidden for as long as he could. Until the time was right and he could find a way to approach the subject without freaking anyone out too much, he would keep it to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or, that’s what he was planning to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re hiding something from me,” Hajime stated suddenly in a matter-of-fact tone. The hairs on the back of Nagito’s neck stood. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Shit.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh? What are you talking about?” He asked evenly, brows furrowing in fake concern as he attempted to keep his voice as steady as it could be.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. You’re the one keeping the secret, not me.” Hajime looked towards him, eyebrow raised. “You’ve been weird all evening. You know you can talk to me, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I seriously don’t know what you’re saying, I’m not keeping anything from you,” Nagito laughed, feeling as if his heart was about to hammer out of his chest. He was such a liar. What was worse was that he was a liar who was about to get </span>
  <em>
    <span>caught</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Hajime was going to find out what he did sooner or later, and the longer he put it off, the angrier Hajime was going to be with him. He was digging himself into a deeper hole, sinking lower and lower into the pit of guilt and deception he had made for himself. How long would it be until there was no way out?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two approached Nagito’s dormitory and his sense of panic began to well up in his chest. He had to get out of this. He was doing so well so far, if he could just cut the date short, he could hold off telling Hajime his secret. Just one more night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, goodnight, Hinata-kun!” He said brightly as they stopped by the entrance to the dormitories. Hoping to slip away before the other could say anything, he quickly turned around and began to walk away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh? I thought we mentioned watching a movie or something?” He could hear Hajime’s disappointment without having to see his face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh! Well, I figured I bothered you with my presence long enough, I would hate to force you to—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t be ridiculous,” Hajime scoffed. Of course it wouldn’t be so easy. At least he wasn’t offended anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, if you’re sure!” Nagito laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I’m sure.” Hajime walked over, grabbing onto Nagito’s arm to lock their arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The sudden pressure…holy shit, it burned. It burned so much. Even if he was the Ultimate Actor, he couldn’t help but let out a tiny whimper. Hajime paused, letting go immediately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh? Are you—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course! No need to worry,” Nagito quickly recovered and smiled, cursing himself for being so transparent. Hajime raised an eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“…you sure you’re feeling alright, Komaeda?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you talking about? You worry too much.” Hajime smiled wearily but decided to keep his arms to himself, nonetheless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They walked into the building without saying a word. Thankfully, the two didn’t run into anyone who would question them. </span>
</p><p>As they walked into the darkened dorm room, Nagito flicked on the light switch to reveal the tidy room. He took off his shoes by the door and walked in as Hajime did the same.</p><p>
  <span>“Can I get you something to drink? Water? Tea? Juice?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I’m alright…” Hajime glanced around the room. He frowned, but if he was drawing any conclusions from his surroundings he chose to keep them to himself. Nagito couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright! Well, make yourself comfortable!” </span>
</p><p><span>Hajime nodded, allowing himself to sit down on the couch kept in the corner of the room. </span>Nagito followed, pausing by the couch. He <em>really </em>didn’t want to sit down next to him.</p><p>
  <span>“Well…uh…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you want to sit down?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>No, I don’t want to, please just leave me alone, I’ve always been alone just leave now please Hinata stop this stop being here stop making me lie STOP IT.</em>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course!” Is what Nagito said out loud as he sunk into the cushions, trying to give Hajime a comforting smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything’s been okay at school?” Hajime asked. The question itself was casual enough, but the way he was asking it made it obvious he was still trying to break his act.</span>
</p><p>He wouldn’t let him.</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, of course! Same as always. What about you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fine. You took your meds today, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is this an interrogation?” Nagito laughed lightly. “Hinata-kun, I’ve said it before, I’m okay.”</span>
</p><p>Hajime sighed, looking away guiltily.</p><p>
  <span>“I know…okay. I believe you. I’m sorry.” Oh god, the guilt was going to eat him alive. All night he wanted Hajime to just buy into his lies, but now that he had… “I’m glad to see you’ve been doing better.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, as am I!”</span>
</p><p><em>“I believe in you.” </em>He shouldn’t have done that.</p><p>
  <span>“…so, you have been seeing some improvements?” Hajime asked hopefully. He looked back at Nagito.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah…well, yes, I think so…” Nagito cleared his throat. He was giving Hajime false hope. He was in too deep now. He went to scratch the back of his head, unable to hold still. “You know…a work in progress and everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hajime smiled. “I’m glad, you—“ He froze. “Wait, what’s on your arm?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nagito’s eyes went wide. With his arm raised, his jacket sleeve had fallen just enough to reveal…</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>F u c k.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Nagito stuck his arm behind his back reflexively. “What do you mean? Hinata-kun, I’ve had marks on my arms for a long time, why are you so surprised?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was a darker mark, though, it—“ Hajime stared at him as the facts quickly pieced together and realization dawned on him. His face fell. “…you did it again, didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nagito opened his mouth, hoping to find something he could say to justify it, but there were no arguments to make. He couldn’t find another excuse to hide behind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was over.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is it just the one cut, or…?” Hajime asked quietly, staring at the arm still hidden behind his back. Nagito made no attempt to answer, which was an answer in and of itself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Without warning, Hajime grabbed Nagito’s right arm. He couldn’t escape even if he wanted to, so he made no effort to put up a fight. There was no point. He was finding out like Nagito knew he would. It was inevitable. All he could do was stare into space as his stomach churned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hajime pulled up Nagito’s sleeve to reveal half of his arm. His eyes shot wide open in alarm as he stared at the horizontal lines carved into his body and the dried, crimson blood splotches staining his pale skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh </span>
  <em>
    <span>god</span>
  </em>
  <span>—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not a big deal—“ Nagito argued dejectedly, half-heartedly attempting to pry his arm out of Hajime’s grasp. Though he could accept the fact that Hajime would find out, he couldn’t deal with the horror that was written across Hajime’s face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the hell are you talking about? Yes, it is!” Hajime cried, not allowing Nagito to escape. “Did you even clean this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I…didn’t need to…” Nagito tried, wincing as he realized he was making things worse. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need to</span>
  </em>
  <span>?” Hajime repeated incredulously, shaking his head. “Is this the only spot, or did you cut your other arm, too?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nagito said nothing. Almost reluctantly, Hajime let go of his right arm and grabbed a hold of his left. He rolled up the sleeve to reveal his left arm in a similar state, if not worse because it was the work of his dominant hand. </span>
</p><p>“Why…?” His voice came out in barely a whisper.</p><p>
  <span>Nagito couldn’t answer.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hajime looked up. “W-When were you going to get around to telling me about this?!” The volume of his voice was rising. “Or were you even planning on telling me at all?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was going to…I just—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You just what?! You’ve been lying and saying you were fine and you weren’t hiding anything. I knew something was up but </span>
  <em>
    <span>this</span>
  </em>
  <span> is what was under your jacket this whole time?! Why, Komaeda? Why didn’t you say anything?!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nagito couldn’t find any words to say. He sat rigid, biting the inside of his mouth. After a few seconds, Hajime dropped his arm and sighed. He got up to his feet, and Nagito’s blood ran cold as he realized he was going to leave. Leave and never come back. As he should.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hajime turned around quickly and glared at him pointedly. “Stay. Still.” With that, he turned on his heel and walked further into the dorm. Nagito blinked, looking after him as he went into the bathroom, leaving the door open ajar.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did as he was told. What else could he do? He could only sit still, listening to the movement coming from his bathroom and the running water from the sink. He had no idea what Hajime could possibly be doing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Too bad there wasn’t a window he could jump out of. He knew dealing with Hajime would be agony, but it was almost unbearable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The door to the bathroom opened again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re out of antiseptic,” Hajime stated as he walked back into the room, holding a roll of bandages in one hand and a washcloth in the other. “It would have been helpful, but I’ll do without it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nagito’s eyes went wide when he realized what Hajime was about to do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“H-Hinata, please, you don’t need to—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>finish that sentence,” Hajime interrupted sharply, setting the items he brought onto the table next to the couch. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sat back down next to Nagito, posture straight and rigid as he turned towards the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Arm,” Hajime demanded curtly, hand raised expectantly. Shame radiating from his entire being, Nagito complied and slowly offered him his left arm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hajime took it surprisingly gently, fingertips lightly pressed against his forearm as he reached for a dampened washcloth. He pressed the cloth softly against the arm. It was warm and smelled like the hand soap Nagito kept in the bathroom. It stung when it passed over the wounds, but he stayed perfectly still, refusing to even flinch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hajime carefully cleaned the wounds, facial expression not contorting from concentration. A heavy, suffocating silence sat between them, neither saying a word as the washcloth rubbed the stained redness away from Nagito’s pale skin.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I fucked up. God, I fucked up so badly, what am I going to do? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Nagito thought bitterly as Hajime worked. </span>
  <em>
    <span>He thought I was better than this and I fucked everything up because I can’t control myself. He has to be so mad at me. How could he not? He hates me, and he has every reason to hate a crazy, screwed-up, worthless, meaningless—</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not angry at you,” Hajime broke the silence as if he could read Nagito’s thoughts. “It wouldn’t be fair of me to be angry at you for not immediately recovering from…everything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But…you’re still upset,” Nagito murmured, eyes glued to the floor. “I mean, you have every reason to be, I’m such a—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was upset because you didn’t talk to me about it,” Hajime cut in before Nagito could finish his comment, glancing up at him sadly. “You lied, but I know these things happen. I’m not angry or disappointed or whatever. I’m just worried. I wish you would talk to me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The last thing I want is to burden you with my insignificant problems,” Nagito smiled emptily. Hajime sighed and put the tainted-red washcloth back on the coffee table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew you’d say something like that.” He grabbed the roll of bandages in one hand and held onto Nagito’s arm in the other. “You don’t have to worry about that, Komaeda. I’m here to listen to you. I want to help you.” He paused his work to look up at Nagito. “If that’s all you’re worried about…just know that I have never seen you as a burden, and never will. Okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not…just that,” Nagito said quietly as he watched Hajime continued to wrap the bandages around his arm. “It’s…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can talk to me,” Hajime assured him as he finished wrapping the forearm with bandages, putting the roll of cloth to the side. As he let go of the left arm, he gently took the other arm and grabbed the washcloth. “Take your time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took Nagito a few seconds to compile his thoughts. In the meantime, the two sat in silence as Hajime wiped away the dried blood. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hajime…” Nagito finally started, “…you’re too caring for your own good. I meant what I said before…about how you should have made it into Hope’s Peak as the Ultimate Serenity. You can help anyone if you put your mind to it. However…as I have said before, I am beyond your help. I tried to get therapy for your sake, and…well, look at what’s happened. Despite your best efforts, I failed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You didn’t fail,” Hajime promised as he finished cleaning the wounds. He took the bandages in his hand and repeated the process of dressing the damaged skin. “We both know this is a part of healing. You don’t have to think like that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t understand…” Nagito’s chuckled hollowly as he focused on staring at the floor beneath them. “This isn’t an epiphany or a new thought, this is a confirmation. I always knew I could never do anything right, and this is just proof that I am what I always thought I was. You placed hope in me because you thought I was better than this, but I’m not. I’m broken.” He instinctively hugged his torso with his free arm, ignoring the pain that came from the sudden pressure on his arm. “I always knew I couldn’t be helped, and if you didn’t believe me before, this is solid evidence that shows I’m right. You should just leave me before I hurt you anymore.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, that’s wrong,” Hajime said firmly. He had just finished wrapping up the arm before taking a hold of Nagito’s hand. “You’re not broken.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How can you say that?!” Nagito laughed out loud, jerking his hand out of Hajime’s reach and looking at him. Despite the aching in his chest, it was impossible to <em>not </em>find the situation morbidly hilarious. “Are you blind? I’m not worth your time! The world is full of people who matter…people who are talented and useful and further society, people who can fill others with hope and combat despair…and I’m not one of those people. I have felt like trash my whole life, and there has been NOTHING to prove otherwise. I screw up everything. Everyone else can see it, why can’t you? Please, stop wasting your energy on me…even if I was savable, I’m not worth saving. You can’t say you actually think I have potential. I don’t. I’m just…well, look at me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hajime was silent, staring at him with an unchanging expression. “I am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nagito breathed heavily, staring at him as if he was playing a practical joke on him before he began to realize that Hajime was being serious. He couldn’t guess if his boyfriend was deluded or simply naïve, but as he looked at Nagito with <em>that</em> much sincerity, for a split second, Nagito wanted to believe him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know you don’t believe me, but it’s true,” Hajime continued, eyes not wavering. “You are not a lost cause, whether you see it or not. You are not hopeless, and I will never think otherwise. And the thing you said about not being worth saving? Bullshit. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> worth saving, so I’m not going anywhere.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“W-Why are you so nice to me…?” Nagito asked quietly, laughing once again as he felt his throat tighten. He stared down at his hand, lost for words. “Why do you even bother? I…don’t understand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I care about you.” Hajime had taken Nagito’s hand into his again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How…how could someone like you care about someone as messed up as me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t see yourself the way I see you. I know you’re a good person, Nagito.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No…” He felt like his head was splitting in half. It didn’t make sense. “No, I’m not. And I’m not worth it…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, you are.” Hajime’s other hand wrapped around the left hand as well. “And I’m not giving up on you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You should give up on me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I won’t, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everyone else did…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But I’m not going to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“…I’m sorry.” Nagito’s voice broke, eyes stinging as he tried to breathe through the lump in his throat. “I’m so sorry—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s okay.” Hajime moved towards Nagito. He wrapped his arm around his waist until he could pull the boy closer. “It’s going to be alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nagito laid his head against Hajime's shoulder. He felt like fighting the embrace, but he was too exhausted. “…how could it possibly be alright?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. But, we’re just going to have to find that out, right?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nagito let out a shaky sigh, reluctantly returning the embrace. He felt his right arm brush against his boyfriend’s side and he glanced towards it. The bandages were tightly wrapped enough to keep them from slipping off, but not too tight as to cut off circulation. He couldn’t remember the last time someone bandaged a wound of his…and this was definitely the first time someone cared for an injury he had done to himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why did he do it? He had nothing to gain from caring for Nagito. He just…did it. Even when he was upset, Hajime still took the time to clean and dress two arms when there was absolutely no reason to. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry you had to clean my arms,” Nagito murmured.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t have had to do that…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I still don’t mind.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nagito sighed, shaking his head. “…I don’t understand you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t really understand you, either,” Hajime chuckled. “I’m trying to, though.”</span>
</p><p><span>Nagito let out a deep breath and closed his eyes. </span>He didn’t know what else to say, so he stayed silent.</p><p>
  <span>This wasn’t a perfect storybook ending; he sat there as thoughts continually screamed about how he wasn’t worth the love Hajime was showing him. He kept reprimanding himself for how much of a burden he had placed on one of the only people who could stand his presence. He didn’t feel deserving of anything that was given to him. It wasn’t a happily ever after.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But, that was to be expected. Because it wasn’t an ending at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not yet, anyway.</span>
</p><p>Not yet.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>leave a comment if you'd like, those always make my day. if you're struggling reach out, there's hope for you xoxo</p></blockquote></div></div>
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